Your Revenge Will Be So Sweet
by amaltheaz
Summary: Smutty Quinntana PWP drabble. "And even so, Quinn still moved above her with a natural grace that Santana had always envied."
1. Your Revenge Will Be So Sweet

**Your Revenge Will Be so Sweet**

Quinn had her hands pinned up above her head, locking them in one solid grip while her other hand pressed down on Santana's shoulder. So, she could really only move her hips. And fine, Santana could very easily submit to the power trip that Quinn was currently on. She had absolutely no problem with that.

She'd be the very first to call herself a liar, if she had said that she never thought about it, never thought about being with Quinn like this, never thought of what oh-Miss-Perfect would be like, moaning and whimpering with that sweet little voice of hers.

Then again, she also figured that _she'd_ be the one on top, with her hands pinning Quinn's down and her body keeping Quinn's from squirming too much.

It was cute though that Quinn thought she was the one in charge.

But it wasn't like she was _really_ going to complain about that any time soon, considering that right now a very, very naked Quinn Fabray was still in between her legs, on a single-minded mission to make them both come very hard, thank you very much.

She could easily turn the tables on the blonde later.

But for now, come _first_.

Her dark brown eyes trailed down Quinn's elegant neck, a red bruise that she had left earlier, contrasting the paleness of her skin. A fleeting thought crossed Santana's mind, whether it was weird that she knew that that bruise would stay with Quinn for the next few days and that she really, really liked the thought of that.

Whatever, she could think about that later and not when she didn't have Quinn's tits in her face.

There was a look of pure concentration on the blonde's face. Her eyes were closed while her eyebrows furrowed and her teeth were biting down on her lip. And even so, Quinn still moved above her with a natural grace that Santana had always envied.

It also got her very wet, if the slick heat between her thighs were anything to go by.

Though she honestly couldn't really tell anymore if that was just her or Quinn, and the thought of that wetness dripping down on her thighs was _them_, might just be driving her a little more crazy than she thought it ever could.

She would like it a little better if she could_ actually_ move more than just her hips because hello, her _whole body_ was a sexual instrument that needed to be experienced. But as her eyes followed the rapid bounce of the blonde's breasts above her, Santana mused that maybe she could still work with this.

Santana parted her legs even further and hooked them around Quinn's hips, letting the blonde settle even more into her. She rolled her hips back against the girl on top of her, just as hard but slower than before. She stubbornly kept to her languid pace until Quinn had no other choice but to follow her.

Turning those tables happened much sooner than she thought.

She couldn't help but smirk proudly at the sight of hardened pink nipples swaying almost lazily above her. Quinn's little moans were transforming into desperate whimpers and her grip around Santana's delicate wrists were near bruising. But hell if that didn't just turn her on even _more_.

The brunette then lifted her head, parting her lips to stick her tongue out and just at the right moment, she lifted her chin. Honest to god, she could literally _feel_ the girl above her gasp audibly at the first touch of her nipple over Santana's wet tongue.

Santana's gaze was on Quinn's face, closing her mouth as she watched hazel eyes snap open and drifted to peer down at her, and her lips.

No words had been exchanged since they started this and there were still no words being exchanged now. But that was the thing about Quinn Fabray. No words were needed because her eyes always said _everything_, no mater how hard she tried to hide it.

And Santana knew from her stare, exactly what Quinn wanted.

She laid her head back down and waited.

This time, as Quinn slowly dragged her nipple over Santana's tongue, her breath hitched as hazel eyes remained open while brown ones fluttered close.


	2. I Pray When I'm Coming Down

**I Pray When I'm ****Coming Down**

A groan rumbled from her chest at the third swipe of her nipple over Santana's tongue. Quinn wasn't sure what to think or _how_ to think for that matter. Her friend's legs were hooked tight around her, the heels of Santana's feet digging into the back of her hips, just… _drawing_ her down.

And really, it should have made it harder to move anything below the waist but it didn't seem like much of a problem for them. Santana eagerly and very effortlessly met her hips, thrusting up as Quinn bucked down.

The blonde knew that Santana was… experienced but then so was Puck and honestly it didn't feel as good as _this_. Puck definitely did not make her feel like every inch of her skin was on _fire_.

Santana wasn't even _inside_ her and she just-

Her hips pushed down harder and the moan that escaped from Santana's full lips was just so fucking _intoxicating_.

Quinn didn't want to think about what this meant, what it meant that she just couldn't stop, that she didn't _want_ to stop.

She was still lost in her thoughts and her previously tight grip on Santana's wrists had loosened and the brunette quickly took the advantage and flipped them over, taking over Quinn's position on top.

Santana only grinned down at her, proudly and almost evilly because she _knew_ that Quinn would eventually get distracted and her patience had obviously paid off.

The glare on Quinn's face didn't put Santana off nor did it intimidate her. If anything, it only seemed to spur her on even more. Narrow, tanned hips grounded down – _hard_ - and Quinn could only just _barely_ hold back her loud gasp at the stronger pressure bearing down on her aching clit.

The brunette's flawless face was approaching closer as Santana leaned down and before Quinn knew it, she was whimpering at the sensation of her breasts pressing against Santana's.

There was just _something_ about the softness of Santana's warm, naked skin sliding against her own that left her so completely breathless.

Her eyes were closed when she felt the filthy rasp of Santana's whisper in her ear.

"You know Quinn, my tongue is pretty damn good for other, much more _pleasing _things. And I can tell, you need something inside you to just _fuck_ you over the edge."

If Santana felt her whole body tremble at the promise in her words, she didn't hint at it. But that was Santana's problem, that she declared herself victorious far too quickly and thus thought herself invincible.

And as Quinn flipped them right back them over to reclaim her position, she knew she was teaching Santana a valuable lesson. That you had to do _everything_ to make sure you kept your place at the top of the pyramid or somebody was going to come and topple you right over.

Quinn was breathing hard and fast but the smile gracing her lips was discerning and challenging as she crawled up Santana's body, taking care to drag her thick wetness over Santana's heaving torso.

Her eyes were blazing green and fiery as they met with Santana's dark brown ones and her pussy quivered in anticipation at the hot breath sweeping harshly over her.

Long, pale fingers ran through brunette locks in an almost tender, affectionate manner.

"You shouldn't forget, Santana. I _always_ come on top."

It was a moment or two of silence between them, of harsh breathing and electric gazes, when she saw a predatory look replace the combative one in Santana's eyes. Her heart raced as the brunette's hands ran over her thighs, eventually hooking her arms over them.

Quinn bit down on her lip, restraining herself when she felt that cool tongue flick up against her clit.

"Anything you say, my captain."


	3. We Sing Love Songs So Sincere

**We Sing Love Songs So Sincere**

The head cheerleader purred in content at the tongue lapping lazily at her hot core, cooling and soothing the fire that seemed to constantly rage inside her at Santana's touch, her stare. Quinn did her best to keep still but she couldn't stop herself from moving her hips, grinding against Santana's mouth that just felt too fucking good to be real.

Santana hadn't spoken another word, not since calling Quinn "my captain" and submitting to the blonde and instead had gone straight to playing with her clit like there was nothing more she wanted to do. Her hands remain hooked loosely around the blonde's creamy thighs; her long fingers grazing lightly, almost casually, over pale skin.

It was all that Quinn could do to not smother Santana completely.

The ache that Quinn felt was overwhelming. There was a tightness that coiled in her abdomen and her chest was filled with _something_ she couldn't really describe. But even with her eyes closed, she could feel them burn and Quinn knew that there was a different kind of release that was waiting, waiting so patiently, for its cue.

Her fingers in Santana's hair, so soft and tender, were now pulling and tugging as she tried to hold on for just a bit longer, delaying the inevitable when she'd let go and fall apart.

Her eyes opened and she peered down to find deep brown eyes staring intently up at her. There was no hiding the salty tears that blurred her focus but Santana never faltered in her task. A whimper escaped her lips when Santana's tongue entered, curling and flicking upwards, gathering as much of Quinn that she could. The head cheerleader watched avidly as dark eyelashes fluttered close and her breath hitched at the moan vibrating through her body, the hands tightening around her.

"Santana," she called in a husky whisper that then turned into another, a much softer whimper when the hands on her hips kept her from moving, kept her still and the tongue inside her sped up its pace.

Her body arched up and her hands, her fingers went into her own blonde hair. Quinn sighed at the nails scraping over her head, moaning softly as they moved downwards over her chest. Her hips jerked in reaction to her hand fully cupping her breast, while the other continued its journey back down to tangle in Santana's dark locks.

As her thumb brushed her nipple, Quinn was filled with the desire to feel Santana's luscious full lips wrapped around it again, to feel the very same tongue that was curling so expertly inside her to swipe over it, just once more.

Quinn wasn't sure just how she looked to Santana right now; bucking so wild and desperate just for a single touch of relief on her aching flesh. All she knew was that every inch of her skin was hot and slick with sweat, that every artery, every vein that pulsed through her was on _fire_.

And all she heard was the heavy breathing that passed through her lips, the rushing sound of the bed creaking under the weight of them, the explicitly obscene slurping noises that Santana just _had_ to be exaggerating. But she couldn't muster up the strength to be embarrassed at the thought that she could be that wet.

Her legs were trembling from anticipation, from having been in the same position for much longer than she should. The shaking began to spread through her body and she could feel them in her arms, her hands. Her strength was wavering and god, she just really wanted to come_now_.

Quinn licked her lips before making a poor attempt to call the brunette's name. It took a few more tries before finally, a firm "_Santana_," was heard in the empty space of the room and brown eyes snapped open at the tone.

The exchanging gazes were electric and Quinn swallowed thickly as the brunette's stare tore right through her.


End file.
